Cosmic
by unicornelious
Summary: When fate delivers beautiful, broken Bella to his family's doorstep, Edward and Bella's lives are forever changed, for better or for worse. All human. HIATUS.
1. Welcome to Seattle

**DISCLAIMER: **This may come to a surprise, but I do not own Twilight. Drats.

**Warning:** Dark themes that continue throughout. If your age is on the clock, I insist that you turn right around and find yourself some nice T-rated fanfics. Not all of the story will be dark, but many of the situations that are a part of it are no laughing matters. If you are at all uncomfortable with sex, underaged drinking, self-harm, or suicidal thoughts, this story is not for you.

**Author's Note: **This is my first fanfiction, so, here goes nothing.

I realize that the summary circles more around Edward but I assure you, Bella has just as much say in this story as he. I just need to get better at summary writing. But never fear, there will be Edward's point of view, after a chapter or so of Bella's.

Thank you in advance for reading, just incase you don't read all the way through to the end where I'll thank you again!

* * *

><p><strong>Bella<strong>

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Seattle. I hope you all had a _very _pleasant flight…"

Oh, please. Like she didn't want the rest of us to be just as miserable as she was the entire time. A small, somewhat demented smile grew on my face. If only she knew. _She_ thought she was miserable? Ha! Come take _my_ life for a spin and tell me _your_ life of serving complimentary pretzels and lightly salted nuts is something to bitch and whine about.

_That's right, Bella. Go ahead and throw yourself a pity party. That'll sure show her who's life is a complete farce._

The stewardess's voice was a shade or ten too nasally for my liking, so I sat up in my seat, stretching my neck to peer over the tops of the passenger's heads and get a good look at this little ray of sunshine. I hadn't paid much attention to her before, only briefly when she practically chucked a packet of nonperishable goods at me. Not only did she startle me out of my muddled head trip, she also cracked my crackers. I had quietly plotted vengeance until she came back half an hour later, asking for trash. I then meekly handed her my garbage, staring at my feet, and turned to hide behind the portable curtain I carry around with me that I like to call hair.

She stood with one hip jutting out at an unnatural slant with a manicured hand rested on the curve (or should I say obtuse angle?) of her waist. She looked like she would rather be dumpster diving for used tissues than rattling off the weather and local time and _we look forward to seeing you soon!_ into the speaker connected to the wall by a tightly wound wire in her hand. Her voice droned above the general murmur of the plane and when she finished she flashed us all a tight lipped smile before slamming the black speaker back into its slot on the wall so hard that an ear slaughtering screech burst from the overhead speakers. From the back of the plane a baby who only just stopped crying after spending more than half the trip wailing its little head off picked up again from where it left off and there was a collective groan from everyone on the plane, including me.

"Sorry," she giggled, slapping a hand over her trout pout and batting her bright blue eyelids in a way that made me want to gag. How could they let her on the plane? For all we knew, she could be hiding explosives in her heavy eyelashes and giant hair. I narrowed my eyes at her. Sorry my ass.

I sunk back into my overly plush seat that swallowed me whole and assumed the position I had held most of the flight. I leant my head against the rough wall and pressed the tip of my nose against the cold acrylic plastic of the window. I was probably leaving a smudge, but who cares? They'd take care of it eventually.

Outside, the world was a clash of gray and green. Beyond the cement of the airport rose endlessly green mountains, and above those hovered dark clouds that obscured the sun's light. Raindrops fell incessantly from the sky and carried sunlight on their backs. It was beautiful and so very different from home. My throat constricted and my eyes pricked uncomfortably. _Dammit, you sentimental wreck. Get yourself together, woman. _I took a deep, shuddering breath, and scoffed quietly. Getting myself together was not much of an option. The least I could do was keep from constantly falling apart.

"Quite different from Phoenix, don't you think?"

I leapt halfway out of my skin at the sound of the gentle voice to my left. I slapped a hand over my hammering heart and pulled away from the wall to look at the pretty face of Esme Cullen. She frowned at me.

Her voice was soothing. "Sorry, dear, I didn't mean to startle you."

I shook my head and I managed a lame, half-hearted smile that she probably saw right through, what with all those motherly, let-me-love-you-but-don't-try-that-bullcrap-on-me-'cause-I'm-not-fooled-by-your-pathetic-ass-smiles vibes that rolled off her in waves. "It's okay, Mrs. Cullen, I guess I'm just a bit, uh, jumpy."

"Bella, like I said before, you can call me Esme." She smiled kindly at me. "I don't expect you to call me Mrs. Cullen for the rest of your life." She paused, dwindling from certainty to hesitancy, like she was trying to decide whether or not it was safe for her to continue. "We're… family now, Bella."

I looked away, blanching. No, that was definitely not a safe topic for her to peruse._ Please desist before I throw up and leave another mess for the janitors to clean up._ A smudge on the window was one thing, but a nice little puddle of what I had been able to keep down the past few days, thanks to the medication Dr. Cullen's colleague had prescribed, was a whole other matter.

Finally, after a few uneasy moments of deep breathing, I cleared my throat, twice, and opened my mouth to respond. "I know, Mrs. Cullen."

I tucked my arms close to my body and bit my lip, hard, and stared unseeingly out the window, which did indeed have a mark from where my nose had been repetitively placed. Not so bad, compared to what my stomach had been threatening me with. I heard her soft sigh from behind the screen of hair that seemed to separate her from me. I clutched at my elbows.

_You're a horrible person_, came an all too familiar whisper. I would have rolled my eyes if the words didn't so damn true.

_Tell me something I don't know._

People were starting to unbuckle now that the plane had come to a full and complete stop. The volume of the plane jerked up a notch or three and I couldn't wait to get out of the metal deathtrap. Mrs. Cullen stood and stretched elegantly. I stood and smacked my head against the back of the seat in front of me.

"Right," I muttered, leaning down to grab my backpack from under the seat and hoping no one had seen me intimately introduce my face to the back of the chair. I should have known better than to hope that my clumsiness would fade away the second I stepped out of Arizona. I guess the temperature wasn't at blame for me being a complete klutz.

_Well, the idea was nice while it lasted._

My backpack was orange and worn out and I absolutely loved it. Dr. Cullen had offered to buy me a new one, when he first saw it, but I had used it for the last two-and-a-half years of high school and I'd be dammed if I gave it up now. Plus, I was hoping keeping it would help remind me of who I was _before_, but, honestly, I was having trouble. Since _then_, I couldn't remember being anything but a shell. And let me tell you. Being a shell? It sucks.

It's like you can only feel pain, and grief: An overwhelming amount of sadness, so deep and sorrowful you can't hardly breathe if you dwell too much on it. So you shut it out, and with it goes the rest of the emotions you used to feel, like happiness. You feel nothing but fleeting glimpses of emotions like curiosity or anger; otherwise, you're numb. And you've made yourself that way. Because to be numb is to not feel pain, not feel grief. To be numb is to be safe.

And I fucking hate it.

"Bella?"

My head shot up and I almost dropped my bag in surprise. Mrs. Cullen was watching me carefully. _Welcome back, space cadet._

"Are you ready to go?" Before I could respond, Mrs. Cullen merged out into the aisle to stand, waiting for me to follow, stopping the erratic flow of traffic that had started up when the doors opened.

"Yeah," I mumbled. She smiled encouragingly at me and I slung the old, slightly delapitated backpack over my shoulder and stepped into the aisle with her. She handed me the coat she and Dr. Cullen had bought for me. It was heavier than anything I had ever needed in Phoenix. One last look out the small porthole of a window had me wondering if it would be heavy enough.

When we walked by, the stewardess gave us a nauseating smile.

"Buh-bye, now," she said, flapping her fingers at me like I was a two-year-old. "Buh-bye!"

I forced my eyes to the floor. She was emetic to watch, but at the same time, fascinating. I marveled at the strength of her eyelids. Those things must be on steroids if they were able to hold that brick of eyelashes on her face.

"Come back soon," she called nasally.

_Yeah, no thank you. _I followed Mrs. Cullen off the plane. She slowed to my pace and I realized she was speaking. I wondered how long she had been doing that for. I made an effort to tune in from _Bellopolis_ to _Reality_. Once in a while, _Reality_ surprised me with being more interesting than _Bellopolis_. It was a rare occurrence though. I hoped this was one of them.

"… and Carlisle is at home with the kids. Oh, I hope they cleaned up. They're such slobs, every one of them, including Carlisle. He's the worst of them, really. Well, no, I take that back. Just wait until you meet Emmett. He might seem like a goof, but really, he's the biggest sweetheart…" No dice. Back to _Bellopolis_ we must go.

Mrs. Cullen's voice was affectionate when she spoke about her family, and it was making me feel a little more than absolutely sick. I tuned her out, not very eager to listen to her talk about how fabulous her perfect family was. It wasn't that I didn't want to hear about them, because I did, well, _sort_ of, but it was just that whenever I pictured how wonderful they were, I remembered that soon I'd be there, being the blemish of the household. Soon enough, they would be scrubbing at their proverbial palms, muttering, _"Out damned spot! out I say!*"_

At luggage claim, we collected my one, medium sized suitcase which held basically the remainder of everything I owned, apart from the worn orange bag on my shoulders. Mrs. Cullen offered to roll it for me but I shook my head tightly and kept my eyes down, my hair falling in my face, afraid of the growingly familiar half-concealed look of rejection on her face. When she gave me a dejected smile and lead the way out, I wondered against for the umpteenth time _why_ I was doing this. _Why _was I forcing myself on this family, that offered me so much, when I obviously had nothing to give them in return?

_Because I have no where else to go._

The thought clawed at me, but I shoved it away. Instead, I wondered, How would I ever pay my debt to them? I had a pretty good feeling that making a card and hot glue gunning frilly ribbons on the outside and writing _THANK YOU FOR PROVIDING FOR MY NEEDS_ wouldn't do the trick. I wished, oh how I wished that I could slip right in with Dr. and Mrs. Cullen's other children and be perfect too.

I scoffed. _You, perfect? When Hell freezes over and pigs fly, maybe you'll have your shot_ _at being _normal.

I followed Mrs. Cullen out of the unfamiliar clean of the airport and into the pouring rain. From out of thin air she whipped out a large red umbrella and held it over both our heads. I peered at her purse, which was hooked innocently around her bent elbow. Witchcraft, I decided. Or maybe she got Mary Poppins' bag off of eBay. Either way, I was grateful for the protection from the torrent of rain that beat down on us. I jostled the coat in my arms as my fingers slowly turned to ice and I began to lose feeling in my toes and wondered how I could manage putting the coat to good use without asking Mrs. Cullen for assistance. The idea of her holding my backpack, which held_everything_ that meant _anything _to me, made my heart thud. What if she dropped it? There were puddles everywhere. I might as well tie it to a stack of bricks and drown it in the Pacific Ocean. That had to be the equivalent of how much water was parting around her umbrella, collected on the ground, flooding the street. I decided I'd rather freeze.

"Bella?" I turned, surprised, once again. Mrs. Cullen was looking at me expectantly. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes," I responded automatically. Had she spoken? I couldn't remember. I clutched the suitcase's handle tightly. "Sorry," I added. I didn't know how she could possibly put up with me taking a mental trip to Timbuktu every five minutes. _How long will it take them to grow tired of me? _The question made me uneasy and my throat grew heavy and constricted. _No, no, no_. I forced all my attention back onto Mrs. Cullen and left little room for any passing thoughts.

She frowned but took a step forward, down the narrow sidewalk and away from me, and I mindlessly followed her closely, trying to keep myself and my bags under the protection of her umbrella. Sheets of rain fell against its top and streamed around us, bouncing when it hit the ground and wetting our ankles. I could feel my sneakers slowly soaking through. Maybe I _would_ take Mrs. Cullen up on her offer to buy me rain boots. Although, from the looks of it, I'd need scuba gear to survive living in Washington.

_However long that might be_.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.

When I had pictured the car I expected Mrs. Cullen to drive, I was thinking a mom van with sliding doors and cup holders with old water bottles and a general overflow of miscellaneous items belonging to her _five _children. Five! And she wanted to make me her sixth.

The thought made me confused and sick and I stumbled over my own feet. That was not too unusual. I'm lucky if I can make it across a flat surface without face bombing the ground. I quickly righted myself before Mrs. Cullen even glanced my way.

When she pulled out an impressive, shiny set of keys and strode toward a very expensive car, I was surprised. This was no mom van. I mean, I should have expected it, but when Dr. Cullen told me (after _I _told _him _several times not to waste his money on someone like me) that they were "comfortable" enough to take care of me _and_ their own family, I thought he meant comfortable in the normal sense of the word. This was beyond comfortable; more around the lines of "my life is equivalent to a Tempur-Pedic mattress."

Mrs. Cullen popped open the trunk and after a moment's hesitation, I swung my suitcase in, cheeks burning at how ridiculously cheap and used it looked in the sleek car. I closed the trunk and ran my fingers over the winged 'B' that was attached to the car._ 'B' for Bentley_. That much I knew. It was nice to know I wasn't entirely clueless when it came to the type of cars "comfortable" people own.

I felt out of place in the car. My backpack rested at my wet feet, my coat pulled over my lap like a blanket. This car wasn't for the likes of me. It was for people like Mrs. Cullen, who looked absolutely perfect sitting in front of the shiny wheel. Compared to her, I felt insignificant, raggedy, not nearly good enough for her, for this stupid, luxurious car, for anything at all.

_Never look a gift horse in the mouth._ Pah. The Cullens taking me in, especially with how old I was, was nothing short of a goddamn Christmas miracle, never mind that it was the beginning of February. It just… didn't make sense. Why would anyone want someone as broken as me? They'd have to be complete idiots. But the Cullens didn't seem like idiots at all. And that confused me to no end.

"It'll be an hour or so," Mrs. Cullen told me, checking her mirrors. "Feel free to take a nap. You look… exhausted." _Really? Was it the dark, hot air balloon sized shadows under my eyes or the complete lack of color in of my skin that clued you in? _"And I noticed you didn't get much sleep on the plane." She glanced sideways at me. "Was it the baby?"

No, it wasn't the baby, as annoying as the poor, ungodly thing was. I just didn't sleep much, period. Not since _then_. But _then _was not something I wanted to think of _now_,so I started converting logarithms in my head and stopped only when my head was cleared of _then_. But despite my seemingly immunity to sleep, tiredness was seeping into my bones, had been since I sat down in the too nice car with the too nice lady, and I let my head sag back against the soft headrest. I bit down hard on my tongue, trapping the moan that formed itself on my lips. It should be illegal for cars to be this comfy.

"You'll wake me up when we get there?" I asked quietly, after I got my porn noises under lock and key. God knows I didn't want those particular sounds coming out to play, right here next to Mrs. Cullen. I briefly considered telling her just how orgasmic her car was.

_Jesus, you've been drugged. It was the cracked crackers, wasn't it? That bitch._

My head lolled to the side and I watched Mrs. Cullen through half-closed eyes. She looked at me, concern laced across her face. I blinked slowly at her.

"Of course," Mrs. Cullen said finally, smiling a small, perplexed smile. She reached over and turned on the radio. An upbeat jazz tune filled the car and I cringed away. No, as much as I enjoyed jazz, it wasn't going to help me fall into the sleep my body so badly needed. She threw an apologetic look at me, as if she could read my mind, and after a moment of fiddling between channels, pausing to _tsk_ at a song about the city of Rack, bitch, she switched it from radio to the CD that was already in the player. The tinkle of the keys to a piano came slowly, but soon the car was consumed by the sound of the pianist's song.

"This is nice," I murmured, not really knowing what I was saying but feeling the need to say it anyway. At this point, my eyelids were too heavy to hold open and I let them fall closed. The music swirled around me, caressing me, lulling me to a sleep, promising me peace. Under me, I could feel the gentle purr of the car's motor, just waiting to fly down the freeway.

Mrs. Cullen hummed in agreement. "It's my son, Edward, playing. He composed this piece. He's very talented." Her voice was colored with the pride she felt for her child. My head rolled to face the other way and I could feel the cold of the window against my face. "It's beautiful, don't you think?"

I listened as the song grew intense and complicated and utterly heartbreaking in all its intricate opulence.

Opulence. What a funny word. Op-u-lence.

"I don't think beautiful is a strong enough word, Mrs. Cullen," I murmured sleepily. Her laugh was lovely. I wished I could laugh like her. All delicate and pretty and whatnot. _I sound more like a braying donkey. _Just then, I realized I hadn't laughed in a very long time. Right after that particular moment of cognizance, I realized I couldn't even remember what I sounded like. For all I knew, I could sound like a symphony of braying donkeys _and _dying hyenas.

"Sleep, Bella," Mrs. Cullen said after a while. "I'll wake you when we get there. I promise."

I wasn't sure what would be waiting for me when I woke up and I certainly did not want her promises, but I nodded anyway and relaxed even further into the seat.

And in that too good car, next to that too good woman, for the first time in a very long time, I slept peacefully under the spell of Edward Cullen's song.

* * *

><p>*Okay, so maybe comparing Bella to the spot of the king of Scotland's blood stained on Lady Macbeth's hand is a bit much, but out of context, it works, figuratively.<p>

Or not.

Mehhhh.

**A/N: **Edwaaaaard. What do we know about him so far? He has pretty music. So far, so good. Reviews are love so baby why don't you love me down? It means so very much to me!

Hahah, thank you, again, for reading. Until next time! xxx

**~NC**


	2. Well, damn

**DISCLAIMER: **This may come to a surprise, but I do not own Twilight. Drats.

**Author's Note**: a;ldkfjal;dskfj. Thank you to all the people who have added this story to their favorites and alerts and whatnots. And I really appreciate the reviews. Seriously guys, thank you.

This chapter is so long. Holy poo! I just didn't know where to stop! I couldn't! Because this is the chapter they meet! Well, they _all_ meet, but I think you get which _they _I'm referring to.

Excuse Bella's lack of acknowledgment of her self-worth. It will get better - she will get better, I promise.

* * *

><p><strong>Bella<strong>

"Bella."

The voice wormed its way into my dreams, jerking me from the deep sleep that should not have been possible, the way my body was so tightly curled. I pushed my face into the alcove of my arms and hoped that if I ignored it long enough, the voice would go away. I considered that for a moment. Seemed like a good enough way to deal with most of my problems.

_Aaand there you go again. Christ, what is with you and crying yourself a damn river? Get the hell over yourself._

"Bella…"

Alas, ignoring the problem was not the solution to this particular problem. Now would be a pretty great time for plan B_... _if I had one. But I didn't, so I was forced to attempt to comprehend the flow of words that the garbled voice was saying.

"… sweetie, it's time to wake up." I curled even tighter into myself, away from the foreign voice. I didn't want to listen, I didn't want to comprehend, and I certainly didn't want to wake up. I hadn't sleep that well in… well, a really freaking long time. "Bella, we're here."

Slowly, reluctantly, I opened my eyes. I blinked heavily into my arms before pulling away, brushing the hair from my face with clumsy fingers. My coat fell from around my shoulders as I sat up from what should have been a physically impossible position and jerked in response when I discovered the painful crick in my neck. I pressed my fingers against the spot and rubbed roughly, digging deep, trying to soothe whatever malfunctioning muscle that was hiding beneath my skin.

For a long moment, after I let my hand fall into my lap and my eyes take in my surroundings, I stared at the unfamiliar interior of the car I was in before turning, utterly confused - and there was Mrs. Cullen, smiling softly at me with one hand on the wheel, the other on the gear shift.

"Sleep well?" I stared at her. "I thought you might want to be awake when we go up the driveway."

I looked out the rain splattered windshield. We were stalling at the base of a winding road that disappeared into the large expanse of forest that surrounded us. It was a quiet, private road that was easily hidden by the plethora of trees that sprung from the ground every this way and that. The main road was deserted and shone with the many puddles that had formed on the uneven ground. Rain hurtled to the earth but was less severe under the canopy of trees. I watched, fascinated, as the the water bounced off the puddles that had collected on the ground.

My sleep-hazed brain struggled to manifest some sort of logical thought. _It's so… It's so…_

"It's so green," I murmured, looking around in wonder. I tried to keep my mouth closed but it just kept on going, forging on with out my permission. "And brown. And… and…" I watched the droplets of rain race down the glass of the window. "Wet," I finished.

_Well said, Bella. Well said._

I blamed it on those crackers.

If Mrs. Cullen noticed my incapability to form a proper sentence or thought I was cerebrally challenged, she didn't acknowledge it. "Welcome to Forks, Bella," she said unceremoniously. I wasn't sure how to respond to that, so I simply nodded and avoided making eye contact, in case she was expecting some sort of sensational reply from me.

_Awkward eye contact evaded. Mission accomplished, Sarge. _

I resisted the urge to pat myself on the back and instead watched intently out the window as Mrs. Cullen drove up the lane, watching the forest flash by. After a while, between a thin clump of trees, I caught a glimpse of something massive and white that stood out like a diamond among coal in the green that surrounded it. Soon enough, we rounded a gentle corner and the lonely road gave way to a gravel drive way that lead to a beautiful building that could hardly be described as a house.

_Huh. _Mrs. and Dr. Cullen had this funny habit of making themselves seem like common folk when obviously, they weren't. This wasn't a house. It was a freaking mansion. Okay, not quite a mansion. A mini-mansion. Fun-sized. Still, it was bigger than any house I had ever set foot in. The thought made me uneasy. There was no doubt about it; I was going to screw this up, big time.

The fun-sized mansion stood in the middle of a large, grassy clearing. It was elegant and stark in the thinning rain. I stared at it in mute awe, holding my coat tightly in my lap. My heart beat wildly in my chest, it's rhythm matching the frantic chorus that sounded in my ears: _This is it, this is it, this is it._

The car pulled to a stop in front of the wraparound porch and my stomach decided then would be a good time to take a shot at pole vaulting and lunge upwards to lodge itself in my throat. There was a jingle as Mrs. Cullen pulled the keys from the ignition and the air in my left ear sighed softly as she turned toward me. I bit my bottom lip, worrying it between anxious teeth.

After a moment of uneasy silence, she spoke. "Ready?"

_Absolutely not_. I opened my mouth and my lips twitched a few times but no words formed on my tongue so I let my jaw snap shut. _Breathe_. "Just… Can I… Give me a minute? Please?"

"Of course." Mrs. Cullen reached back for the umbrella she had lain on the floor of the backseat before opening the door and stepping out into the rain. The soft click of the door closing broke through the barrier in my throat and I pulled in a deep, shuddering breath.

"Oh, God," I croaked, staring unseeingly at the dashboard, at my coat-covered knees, at the rain. "Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God."

This was it. The moment I had been dreading and dreaming of for the past three months. Five months since _then_. Getting out of the safety of the expensive car, walking up those slippery steps, crossing over the threshold of that beautiful home, was supposed mean the end to all the uneasy doubts, all the not knowing. It was supposed to mean leaving my old life and starting a new one here, with Mrs. Cullen and her perfect husband and her perfect home and her perfect kids. But I wasn't stupid. Living here would never, ever change my past. It would not make me a new person. It would not make me _better_.

No, I was far too gone for any chance at better.

Besides, they'd leave me eventually. Whether they moved across the galaxy or kicked me out on my undeserving ass, they'd find a way to purge themselves of me.

_So don't get too comfortable_.

I took one last deep breath before reaching for the door-handle. I let my fingers rest there, caressing it almost, feeling the cool of the metal before pulling it and opening the door.

Mrs. Cullen hurried forward from where she was standing a little ways away, holding the umbrella for me to stand up from the car beneath before walking us to the trunk. The umbrella stayed over my head as I leaned into the trunk to grab my suitcase and backpack. Amazingly, I was able to drag the bag up wet stairs without slipping once, a loud _thunk_ that was drowned out by the relentless rain sounding each time it smacked against the steps. And then there we were, standing on the porch, wiping our feet on the welcome mat, staring at the door.

Mrs. Cullen stood patiently at my side while I psyched myself up for this life-altering moment, breathing deep and squaring my shoulders, cheering myself on in my head, when the large door was flung open and a large object came flying through it and into me._ Great. They're throwing things at me all ready. _My arms flailed about for purchase on something - _anything _- to keep me upright, and I grasped at the air wildly, my mind hollering _Timbeeerr _anda deep voice that definitely did not belong to me yelling "_Fuck!_" I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped for the best.

And then I was falling.

And then… Nothing.

Five seconds later and there was still ground beneath my feet. My eyes snapped open, brow furrowing in confusion as to why I wasn't on my butt yet, and I was confronted with the sight of… what was that? I jerked away, eyes moving up whatever it was that had kept me from plummeting to the cold, wooden floor, and, oh -

The large object was not an object at all, but a man. And my God, he was beautiful.

Dark lashes highlighted the intensity of the impossibly green eyes that burned into my own. Under his gaze - or was it a glare? - I was frozen, nailed to the spot, completely immobile like a deer in the headlights. His hair, an array of indescribable shades of bronze, was a haphazard mess, brushing over his forehead and curling slightly over his ears. His lips, the pinkest, softest looking lips I had ever seen on a man… boy… were slightly open, perfect white teeth peeking from behind them.

Under my hands something shuddered and I broke my gaze from the man's… the boy's… face to glance down at them. My fingers tightly clutched the lapel of his coat, holding onto it so fiercely that my knuckles had turned white. He shifted slightly and I realized his own hands were gripping my waist, fingers digging into my sides. The rough pad of a few of his fingers was pressed into my skin where my pathetically thin sweatshirt that was perfect for Phoenix and not so much for Forks and the shirt beneath it had ridden up. The patch of skin there felt like it was on fire, slowly burning away into him.

_Oh, God, he smells good_. Unlike anything I had ever smelt before. I could live in his scent. It was absolutely amazing.

Okay Bella, let's knock the creep status down a notch.

We both released each other at the same time, him yanking his arms to his sides and shoving his hands into the pockets of his severely distressed jeans, me stumbling back, nearly tripping over my forgotten suitcase which had been knocked over during our brief… encounter. Of all the things about this boy I could look at, I found myself staring at his pants, wondering just how much he had paid for them to look that worn. His fists tightened in his pockets.

My cheeks warmed and I ducked my head. I really hoped he didn't think I was staring at his crotch. Because I wasn't. I _totally _wasn't. I swear.

"Edward!" Mrs. Cullen's voice was colored with a slight undertone of worry. "What are you-"

_Edward_. Why did that sound so familiar? I was starting to feel spectacularly stupid.

The boy, Edward, made a sharp grunting sound and despite my best efforts, my eyes flew up to meet his. His expression was dark, angry almost, and I stepped back. Without a word he brushed past me, taking the stairs two at the time, not bothering to flip up his hood when he emerged into the heavy rain. As I watched him stalk off, it clicked. Edward_._ Mrs. Cullen's son. The one with the beautiful music that miraculously put me to sleep. _Edward_.

Huh.

Next to me, Mrs. Cullen sighed and shook her head, watching as a silver car peeled out from the side of the house from what I could only assume was the garage. She looked tired, but not at all surprised. She wasn't even worried about the insane speed at which he drove at or the way he whipped around the corner and out of sight, rain splaying in his wake. If my kid was in the car, I'd be having a mini heart attack right about now.

"I'm sorry, Bella." She sighed again and glanced back at the driveway. "Edward, he's-"

"- He's Edward," said a deep, booming voice. "Broody and moody as shit and occasionally an asshole extraordinaire."

"Emmett Cullen!" Mrs. Cullen's tone was sharp and commanding. "Do _not_ speak that way about your brother and do _not_ use that language in my house, especially in front of Bella."

"Sorry, Mom," the voice said, not sounding very sorry at all.

I turned and suddenly the rumbling voice had a face… and a body… a damn huge one at that. It was good to know his voice and shape were in proportion, righteously so. His face was nearly cracking in half with the intensity of his dimpled grin, and I couldn't decide wether I wanted to return his smile or run and throw myself in Mrs. Cullen's trunk. I weighed my options. Chances were, he'd outrun me before I could take two steps.

He saved me from making the decision, however, when his great, burly arms opened wide and, to my horror, reached out and grabbed me, pulling me to him and grasping me so tight I thought my lungs would burst.

_Can't… breathe - !_

It was only when her let me go and smiled widely down at me that I realized that this bear-man-boy-thing had been _hugging _me. I shook my head and placed a hand over my chest, still trying to catch my breath. My body had healed since that night and I no longer felt incredibly breakable. _Hugs are okay. Hugs are good._ But why anyone would want to give one to _me_ was a puzzle.

"Bella!" His eyes crinkled as his smile grew impossibly larger. "Hi. I'm Emmett."

"Hi," I mumbled.

"Hi!" he repeated.

Between him and the guy who couldn't seem to get away fast enough, I'm was getting a seriously confusing vibe coming from these people. Talk about mixed signals.

From behind him came what sounded like a frustrated grunt. "Em, move, you ass! Lemme through!"

A small hand appeared on the bear-man-boy-thing's side, the person who it belonged to it hidden by his huge form. Did I mention that he could probably be mistaken for a Baobab tree? He took up most of the doorway with his hulking, incredibly fit frame.

"Emmett, _move_, goddammit."

The hand poked at him but he ignored it, rolling his eyes. The hand retracted and fast as lightning was replaced by an elbow that dug itself into his side. He yelped like Paris Hilton's pooch and lunged forward out of the doorway and there standing in his place was a pretty, petite girl. Her hair was cut short and was so black it was nearly blue, a great difference to her pale skin.

"Hi!" The girl smiled and when she moved toward me, it seemed like she was floating. I prepared myself for yet another assault. She enveloped me in a tight, bone crunching hug. God, she was strong. After a minute she pulled away, still smiling. She stood before me and bounced on the balls of her feet. "I'm Alice!"

She watched me expectantly and I realized this was usually the part when I should say something like it's so nice to finally meet you or oh, my God! Where did you get your shoes? They're _adorable_! But because I had never said something like that before in my life and wasn't planning on starting now, I decided on doing it the ol' Isabella Swan way.

"Bella," I muttered, looking down, avoiding meeting her enthusiastic gaze. Oh. Her shoes _were _quite nice. I shuffled my feet, suddenly very aware of the ratty sneakers currently presiding on my feet.

"I know that, silly," she said with a wave of her hands, which then shot out and to grasp mine. She smiled warmly at me, and when I looked up, her eyes were twinkling. I never thought I'd see the day when eyes _twinkle _but goddamn, this girl proved me wrong. "We're going to get along, I just know it_. _You and I are going to _best_ friends!"

_Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let's take a step back and let you rethink the words that just came from your mouth. _

I wanted to tell her that once she got to know me, it'd be more that she'd be struck by lightening three times in a row than for her to still want to be my friend. But instead I bit my lip and spoke to her shoes. "Right."

_Right my ass._

"Why don't we go inside?" Mrs. Cullen suggested, placing a hand on my shoulder. I stiffened under her touch and pretended to adjust the straps of my bag to shrug her off. _Oh, real smooth, Bella. _"You must be getting very cold." I nodded, because what was I supposed to say?No, it's okay, let's just stay and chat out here while our fingers turn blue with frostbite?

What a bitter little bitch I was being. I pulled my head out of my self-pitying butt and made for the door. Alice backed out of the doorway, eager to please. Emmett made to grab my suitcase but I amazingly made it to the handle first and grimaced - oh, did I say grimaced? I mean smiled - I _smiled_ at him and he and Mrs. Cullen waited for me to roll in before stepping in behind me and shutting the door behind me. The door clicked softly, and with that final, resonating sound, there was no turning back.

The main foyer was incredible. Dr. Cullen had said something in passing about Mrs. Cullen being a "renowned, world famous interior designer" but, Christ, I thought he had been exaggerating, bragging about his wife in a way I figured most functional couples do. Looking around, it was obvious he had not been blowing her talents out of proportion.

The four of us stood there for a moment, the three of them watching me, and me surreptitiously watching them. After a moment I cleared my throat uncomfortably and reached up to readjust the backpack on my shoulders, for real this time. I fidgeted with the straps and made brief, awkward eye contact with Emmett, who grinned widely at me. I stared down at the wooden floor.

"Bella." From down the hall, the gentle voice was followed quickly by the gentle man who owned it that I hadn't seen in felt like months but was more along the lines of a week or so. There was something just so genuinely _calming _about this man that made me feel, if anything, a slight sense of peace, and when I had been in the hospital, it was that sense of almost-peace that I looked forward to everyday. He smiled warmly at me, but despite the familiar face I was borderline glad to see, I couldn't help but wonder what it was with these people and smiling all the goddamn time. Dr. Cullen walked forward to softly kiss his wife, murmuring something in her ear. She sighed happily and loud enough for all of us to hear, said "I missed you, too."

I wondered if anyone was missing me and had to keep myself from snorting out loud. _Oh, that's an easy one. No. _

_Can you please go five seconds without descending into I-Pity-Myself mode? It's getting really freaking annoying_.

_Shut up._

_No, you!_

Jesus Christ, I was seriously losing it.

"How was your trip?" Dr. Cullen asked. I tried to give their reunion some privacy and looked up at the antique looking chandelier that hung over the middle of the foyer. The way the light glinted off the crystal made me want to reach out and touch it, capture each glimmer of luminescence. It was only when the room remained silent and I glanced up to see four faces surveying me expectantly that I realized Dr. Cullen had been talking not to Mrs. Cullen, but to _me_.

"Fine," I murmured, my eyes meeting his briefly before focusing on a fresh vase of flowers behind him. They were a beautifully arrangement of lively colors that were rare in the dusty suburbs of Phoenix, Arizona. None of our neighbors grew flowers, and neither did we. The closest I had ever had to a plant was the baby cactus in a clay pot that Renee - no, no, no, I was _definitely_ not ready to go there_._ Not ready to go to _then_.Staring hard, I took the time to try and calm myself, breathing in my nose and out my mouth, just like they had taught me during my time at the hospital and the number sessions I had afterwards. Okay. Right. The baby cactus in a clay pot that _she_ had given me on my birthday almost three years ago.

Of course, only I would be able to let a cactus die, despite my best efforts. To water, or not to water? That was the question. Sadly, I answered wrong, because I drowned the stupid thing. They don't teach you that stuff in school, that's for sure. I would have flunked Cacti 101.

"Bella? Did you hear me?"

_God freaking dammit. _

"Sorry," my mouth spoke for me like an automatic message machine and I looked up at Dr. Cullen. He peered at me. I gave him a tight smile that felt all too wrong on my lips. I hoped I wasn't grimacing again, although chances were I was. "What… what did you say?"

He nodded understandingly, his face gentle as ever. I let my gaze shift back to the bouquet of flowers over his shoulder again but made sure to keep my full attention on the sound of his voice and the words it carried. "I said, why don't we go meet Rosalie and Jasper and we can show you upstairs and get you settled in?"

I wondered what constituted as settling in. Moving the few items I had out of my two bags and onto a shelf? Settling in would be easy then. A cakewalk. Meeting Rosalie and Jasper? Not so much.

So far, meeting the people Mrs. Cullen wanted me to call family had been… bizarre. Yes, bizarre. That would be a nice way to put it. From being nearly plowed into the ground by the most beautiful boy I had ever laid eyes on to getting hugged like I was the next best thing by the pixie of a girl, thing certainly hadn't gone as planned. I had expected an awkward introduction where everyone would stare at me for an estimated seven point five seconds before losing interest and asking me if I had enough bus fare to get the hell out of their house and their lives. Maybe Jasper and Rosalie would react like normal human beings and realize I was nothing to be excited over, unlike Alice and Emmett, both of which definitely had the wrong idea in their attractive heads.

Speaking of attractive, because so far everyone was, blindingly so… Do beautiful people have some sort of thing programed in their genes that pull them to each other? Is it some sort of seasonal migration that works to keep their dying specie's alive? If so, why the hell was _I _there?

Mrs. Cullen told me I could leave my bags at the base of the stairs, and after setting them down carefully out of the way, I followed timidly behind Alice and the bear-man-boy-thing - I mean _Emmett_ - both of them turning around every five nanoseconds to smile encouragingly at me. They lead me to what I assumed was the living room. It was beautifully decorated, just like the parts of their home I had already seen, and no doubt the rest of the house was just as intricately designed.

There, sitting on one of the couches, was a bombshell of a girl, who's blonde hair was as immaculately done as her flawless makeup. Her blood red fingernails tapped against the glossy fashion magazine she was holding, and she looked utterly bored with whatever article she was reading. Against the armrest of the love seat, a boy leaned. His hair was longish and a nice, dirty blonde color, compared to her honey locks.

When we entered, he uncrossed his arms and stood up straight. His eyes briefly rested on me before Alice skipped to his side and smiled up at him, taking his hand in hers. His gaze lingered happily on her before they both turned to look at me, him smiling softly and she wearing a big grin that should not have been able to fit on her delicate face.

"This is Jasper," Alice said, squeezing his hand. Jasper. Brother? I glanced at their intwined fingers and the way she snuggled into his side in a definitely _not _sibling-ly way. Boyfriend/brother?

The boy looked at me, cocking his head to the side, narrowing his eyes slightly, as if he was waiting for me to comment on the obvious… relationship he and his… sister?… shared. I felt myself shrug slightly. I bit my lip uneasily, hoping he would understand that I wasn't about to launch into a whole spiel on how wildly inappropriate their relationship was. Who was I to judge? They weren't even related. Mrs. Cullen had told me that her all five of her children were adopted. So, technically, _none_ of them were related.

"Hi," said Jasper finally, his face relaxing and his soft smile reappearing. His voice was soft and he spoke with a slight Southern twang. "I'm Jasper," he reiterated. "That one over there-" he nodded his head toward the girl still on the couch, who had set her magazine down in her lap and was appraising me openly and making me feel mighty self-conscious. "-is Rosalie. We're twins."

Okay, so _two _of them were related. Right. That still left a world full of opportunities for them. Which also made the cowboy Alice's boyfriend and not brother. Technically.

I fidgeted under Rosalie's gaze. Jasper and Alice watched me intently from their spot by the love seat and from behind me I could practically feel Emmett and Dr. and Mrs. Cullen's eyes burning into the back of my head. Okay, it had been longer than seven point five seconds. Why weren't they losing interest yet? Why weren't they all like Edward, who couldn't get away fast enough?

I decided then his reaction to meeting me was the one I felt most comfortable with. At least he didn't try and pretend like he gave a shit. I appreciated that.

"Uhm," I said to the audience I had after a moment of silence, like the bright seventeen-year-old I was. "Hi." I glanced at Rosalie. She held my gaze cooly before nodding in acknowledgment and looking away.

She had a distinct, unmistakable aura of the color Bitch. Maybe she and Edward had a relationship similar to Alice and Jasper's. From what I had seen so far, which wasn't very much at all, they had a special way of making you feel totally inferior and quite possibly revolting. I remembered the look in Edward's eyes when I had met his gaze.

"Want to see your room?" Alice asked suddenly, bouncing again on the balls of her feet. You could probably generate the entire house for a couple weeks off of the energy in her little body alone. She looked at me expectantly. "C'mon, I'll show you."

She let go of Jasper's hand to float over and take mine, grasping my fingers before dragging me to the stairs with a strength that someone as tiny as her should not be able to possess. I stumbled over my feet slightly, my clumsiness starkly contrasting to her grace. I glanced over my shoulder; Emmett grinned widely and had his arm curled around Rosalie, who must have stood up during my brief departure from the room.

_Emmett and Rosalie, huh? Well, color me surprised. _Emmett seemed so… _nice_. But hey, maybe Rosalie was the poster girl for all things rainbows and butterflies and was president of the I-Heart-Jesus club. Maybe she just got bad vibes from _me. _

I bent to grab my bags before Alice could. She smiled at me, not fazed in the bit, and started up the stairs. Up the stairs Alice pranced… and I slowly trudged behind, trying not to drag my suitcase against the shiny hardwood of the steps. By the time I finally reached the top, I was panting, hard, and I was pretty sure my shoulder had been dislocated about half way up. Alice stood at the top, waiting for me, smile in place, looking for all the world like she was _happy _to be showing me to my room. I shook my head.

I followed Alice down a long hall full of a collection of closed, slightly ajar, and wide open doors. She pointed to each of them, telling me whose they were. Immediately next to the stairs was the master bedroom, which, judging by the lack of doors situated next to it, took up a whole lot of room. Further down, Emmett and Jasper's rooms were right next to the other's. Across from them was a bathroom that they shared. Down the hall a little bit more was Alice's room and Rosalie's; Alice excitedly showed me her room and the bathroom she and Rosalie shared and said I was welcome to use their stuff any time I wanted. The countertop was a mess of makeup and other cosmetics, but it was nothing compared to Alice's room, which looked like a storm as bad as the one brewing outside had swept through it.

"And _this_… is my closet," she said proudly, opening a door decorated by photos of her, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie. Immediately I crossed out the I-Heart-Jesus club president theory, seeing one picture of her wearing a dangerously cropped shirt and what looked like tatters of what used to be a pair of short-short-_short_ shorts. I studied the door, and curiously realized there was only one picture of Edward, standing slightly aside from the rest of his siblings at what looked like a camping site. He looked sullen and uncomfortable as hell but beautiful all the same.

_Dammit. _

I shook my head and peered around the door and into - oh, holy _crow_ -

"Did we just walk into Narnia?" I asked, gaping at the amount of clothes she had carefully arranged in the huge, bigger-on-the-inside closet. Each piece of clothing was hung on the racks that lined the walls of the closet that was easily the size of my old room. Her plethora of shoes were organized by color.

"Narnia?" Alice scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Honey, please." She strode over to a particularly bright and flowery shirt and tugged at it's flowy sleeve. "This is_ Marc_ _Jacobs_. They don't carry Marc Jacobs in Narnia." She glanced at me and her eyes lit up with a shine I couldn't decide if I liked or not. "Oh, this would be so _cute_ on you!" She ripped it from the rack and held it out to me, nodding to herself. "Here, take it."

I stared at her, wondering if she was joking, waiting for the punchline. She didn't honestly expect me to take it, did she? That… what did she call it? Mac Jared - wait, no, that wasn't right… _Marc Jacobs_ shirt? I had never even heard of Marc Jacobs before. God, that shirt was probably worth more than all the clothes in the suitcase that I left by her door combined.

I held out my hands, palms out, shaking my head quickly.

"Um, I, I- no, t-thanks, but, no." I tripped over my words and I felt my face burst into flames.

Alice cocked her head at me curiously but with a little pout gave in and put the shirt back on the wooden rack, where it belonged. I let out a relieved sigh.

"Let's go see your room then," she chirped, frolicking out of the mega closet and back into the hall. I followed, pulling my suitcase after her.

At the very end there were two doors that faced the master bedroom, all the way down the hall. The door on the right was pristine, just like the rest of the doors we had past. The one on the left, on the other hand, was peeling, the bits of the brown wood exposed around the edges, the white paint curling away. The door knob was scratched and worn. I was hoping there weren't too many maggots in there.

I reached for the handle. _Let's get this over with._

Alice leapt forward to stand between the door and me. She raised her arms high and boomed, "You shall not pass!"

_What the..._

"Why not, Gandalf?" I peered at her. I was surprised by how _easy _it was to talk to her and not answer with grunts and clucks and my usual cavewoman speak. And, if I was being honest with myself, which I tried very hard not to be, I sort of liked it.

Alice laughed and shook her head. "This is Edward's room," she explained, glancing over her shoulder at it. "He… doesn't like people going in there."

I frowned. That was _Edward's _room? Why did it look like if I opened the door, I would find a bunch of dead bodies chopped up and stuffed into Ziploc bags behind it? I backed away.

"Okay…" I gestured at the impeccable door next to it. "Then this one is… mine?"

The slight tension that had taken over Alice's face disappeared and the grin was back, full force, before she reached for the shiny handle of _my _room and pushed the door open.

She clasped her hands in front of her and moved to the side so I could walk in. "I know it looks like a hotel room now, but we can go shopping and personalize it tomorrow, if you'd like. I can help you pimp it out."

I stopped in the doorway, not really believing my eyes. The room was _huge_. Which didn't make much sense, seeing as Edward's room was supposed to be right next to mine, and the expanse of our rooms were a lot smaller than the rest of the rooms. It was obvious that this room had more floor space than his. I swallowed and turned back to see Alice standing there, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"The bathroom's just out there," she told me, nodding her head. "But like I said, you can come use Rose and mine's if Edward decides to be a jerk and hog it. We tried to talk him into sharing with Jasper and Emmett so you could have it to yourself but he went off about the sanitary issues that posed, and I guess he's right because those two are slobs, Edward's not OCD or anything but he does like things to be neat and Em and Jazz couldn't keep their bathroom clean if they were paid to do it." She talked 90 miles per minute and I had to strain to understand what she was saying. "So anyway you can totally kick him out if you want but he's got a bit of a… temper…" She slowed then, frowning at something only she could see, before shaking her head and smiling sweetly at me. "Just don't go in his room," she said, like I would even consider it. "He hates when people go in his room."

"Room?" I scoffed, making a 360. "Are you sure he's not sleeping in a linen closet? No way are both our rooms this big."

Alice laughed again. She had a lovely laugh, just like Mrs. Cullen, unlike me.

"Edward's room is the attic, Bella," she said, matter-of-factly, rolling her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. _Oh, right. Of course_. _Silly Bella, assuming he might sleep in an actual bedroom._ "The door just leads to the stairs."

_Huh. _An attic dweller. That was… odd. But just like with Alice and Jasper, and Emmett and Rosalie, I wasn't about to judge. Besides, if anyone had the right to judge, it should be _them _judging _me._

I was staring up at the crease in the wall between my bedroom and the ceiling when all of the sudden Alice was in front of me, her face startlingly serious. I stumbled a step back. "I should probably warn you, Bella…"

I stared at her, completely lost. Just a second ago, we were talking about Edward's room. Now, she looked like she was about to fall on the ground and start spewing dark prophecies about my inevitable doom.

"Edward is…" She paused, and shook her head. She groaned, frustrated. "How do I say this right?"

_Uh, how about you don't?_ I was starting to get a little freaked out. Edward is what? A worm breeding psychopath? A cat worshiping weirdo? A vampire? Edward is _what? _Did I even want to know?

_Yes._

_Shut up._

I'd keep out of his way, for Christ's sake. She wouldn't need to worry about me bothering him. _He _wouldn't need to worry about me bothering him.

"He's a good person..." she began again. I didn't like where this was going. I could sense a big _but _coming up. "I feel bad telling you this, but-" _Bingo._ "-just in case it wasn't obvious enough, because I saw what happened earlier, he has _problems_, Bella."

I sighed, almost sagging with relief. _So, not a vampire. That would explain the lack of moats and dungeons and coffins and whatnot._

Yeah, we've all got problems. _Who doesn't?_

Alice nodded, like she could hear my thoughts, her face sad and her voice tired. "For all intents and purposes, he's brother and I love him and I'd do anything for him, but the truth is, even though I've known him for years, I don't really _know_ him."

I was starting to get pretty uncomfortable with all this intimate _feelings_ talk, so I bit my lip and looked up, down, all around, just not at her. _So, we're back to the ignoring of the problems. _When I finally looked up her chin was trembling slightly. Was it the lighting in the room, or were her eyes glistening? Crap.

"Why don't you show me the rest of downstairs?" I offered, cringing away from my own words. Honestly, that was the last thing I wanted to do at the time, but if me suffering through a little human interaction with the people I was supposed to live for... however long they would keep me, I suppose, would keep this girl from having an emotional breakdown in front of me, I'd do it.

"Okay," she said, after a moment of composing herself, perking up a bit. She ran her fingers under her eyes before smiling brightly at me, like she hadn't just almost started crying in front of the girl who was invading her home over her brother who had _problems_.

"Okay," I repeated. I gently dropped my backpack on the large bed, running my fingers over its rough fabric before following her out the room. Out of _my_ room.

Dinner was awkward. There's really no other way to describe it. As hungry as I was and as delicious as the meal Mrs. Cullen had prepared especially for me looked, I couldn't eat. I would only be able to get the meat halfway to my lips before my throat closed up and I practically harpooned the plate with my fork in my haste to get the food away from me. I think Dr. and Mrs. Cullen had told their kids to leave me be, because surprisingly I wasn't bombarded with the questions I had dreaded answering. Mrs. Cullen had promised me that they knew nothing about me except for which state I came from and my name. It wasn't much to go off and if I were them, I'd be dying with curiosity. But thankfully, they were either really good at obeying their parents and not interrogating me, or they simply didn't care, which was the feeling I got from Rosalie, who sat the furthest away from me, and Edward, who hadn't bothered to show up to dinner at all. I didn't think he had even returned from wherever the hell he was rushing to get to. A small, ridiculous part of me hoped his absence wasn't because of me, but, really, why wouldn't it be?

After yet another long period of silence in which I tried and failed to eat something, I placed my fork on the plate and looked up. Six pairs of eyes snapped away. I felt my cheeks flush and I looked at Dr. Cullen, biting my lip hard.

"I... I'm not feeling very great," I told him softly, pretending like we were back in the hospital and not sitting at his dinner table with his family. I was never a very good patient, and hardly ever told him when I was in pain or needed anything, so when I said this his eyebrows rose and he looked at me questioningly. I focused on his nose rather than his eyes. "W-would you mind if I go to bed?" Although, I seriously doubted I'd be getting any sleep. That nap in the car was some sort of miracle, thanks to Edward's music, but I highly doubted he'd be willing to speak to me, let alone lend me a CD.

Dr. Cullen studied me, flipping his Doctor-Switch on and surveying me with that slightly detached, calculating way doctors have. His gaze lingered on the spot under my eyes, where I assumed my hot air balloons/under eye bags were looking slightly better than before. He nodded.

"Let us know if you need anything. Sleep well, Bella." He said as I rose quickly from my seat. I made my way towards the hall, avoiding eye contact with anyone else.

"Good night, Bella," Mrs. Cullen called. I turned and smiled awkwardly, raising my hand in some sort of response. Emmett and Alice wished me a good night too. Boy, those two were friendly. Jasper nodded his head at me and Rosalie stared at the wall. Good Ol' Rosalie. I bit my lip and left the room.

Sleeping was not an option. I don't know how long I lay there in the gianormous, comfortable, Egyptian cotton sheeted, thread count: a whole lot bed. After a while of staring at the ceiling, I decided a hot shower would be pretty great so I got up and made my way to the bathroom, glancing down the dark hall. A few of the doors had lights shining through from underneath. Alice's room was dark and I wondered how a girl as energetic as her was asleep already. A light shone from under the bathroom door that Alice and Rosalie shared and I decided I might as well use the one by room. I hadn't heard him return yet. A quick shower wouldn't hurt. Right?

The bathroom was meticulously clean. I turned on the water and gave it time to heat up. I opened one of the cupboards, looking for a towel, and there was a stack of them, carefully folded, all dark blue. I put one on the closed toilet lid and then shed my pajama top and bottoms, along with my underwear, avoiding the mirror, staring straight ahead at the shower, not once looking down at myself. Slowly, because I was the definition of clumsy, I stepped into the shower, careful not to slip.

It was only when I was already under the warm spray of the water that I realized I had no soap or shampoo with me.

_Well, damn. _

I looked around; on a tiled ledge there was a couple of bottles. I picked one up carefully and popped the cap open, squeezing the bottle and taking a whiff. Oh, that smelt good. Like, really good. Like, Edward good.

_Whoa. _No way did that thought just pop up in my head. Nope, no way, Jose. Sorry, didn't happen.

I glanced around the shower, checking for God knows what, before taking another sniff.

_Creep mode activated. _

I'm not sure how long I stood there under the steady spray of the water, holding the bottle up to my nose, debating whether or not to use the shampoo. It was for men, but I didn't have too many options at the time. Finally, I turned it over and poured some of it into my hand and setting it down exactly as it had been before rubbing my hands through my hair and closing my eyes as I took on that incredible scent as my own. If my memory served me correctly, which it did, because no way would I ever forget the way Edward smelt -_ Oh my God, could you get any weirder? _- the shampoo wasn't all there was to his scent. It was missing something, and I craved it desperately.

_This whole sleep deprivation thing is really getting to me_.

After I washed myself with his body wash, I got out, shaking out my hair and smelling it as it whipped my face. I dried myself with the dark blue towel, careful to avoid the particularly irritable scars, and reached for my pajamas on the floor where I had left them... and where the water that had dripped from my hair and body had puddled around them.

_Fabulous__. _

I picked up the wet mess and huffed loudly. My pants were soaked. My ratty shirt was damp. My underwear had probably already started its deterioration process.

_Well, damn._

I was going to have to make a run for it. I couldn't put these clothes back on. I couldn't take them into my room because they'd probably ruin the carpet. I hung them over the side of the tub and prayed that Edward would, a) not notice, b) not care, or c) have a really strong bladder and not need to use the bathroom anytime in the near future. Or maybe he'd just use Emmett's and Jasper's bathroom. Although, based on what Alice had said earlier, I figured that was highly unlikely. I hid my panties under my shirt and didn't care if they stayed wet or not, as long as they were out of view.

I wrapped the towel tightly around my body, wincing when the plush fabric rubbed against one of my more prominent wounds on my upper torso. It had healed, but still felt raw, and even the incredible softness of the towel couldn't prevent the pain I felt when it chafed against the skin.

I opened the door an inch, peeking out into the hallway. Now the only lights that were on were in what I couldn't tell was either Emmett's or Jasper's room. I clutched the towel. My room wasn't far from the bathroom; only a few steps and I'd be safe...

In the same moment that I turned off the bathroom lights and stepped into the hallway, the peeling door flew open with a bang and out strode - _oh, just my luck _- a soaking wet Edward, his hands in his wild, wet hair, his eyes scrunched closed tightly. I didn't have time to move or cry out or blink or do anything slightly self-preserving before he ran right into me for the second time today, hard, knocking me off balance. This time, I tumbled to the floor.

_Uh, ow! _My elbow throbbed from where I had landed on it and a jolt of pain ran up and down my arm, paralyzing my fingers for a moment. Thankfully, my other hand still grasped my towel and held it to my chest, keeping it closed and _on, _which was the best thing that had happened to me all day.

I looked up, my wet hair sticking to my neck and shoulders and the top of my chest, dragging across my skin as I moved my head. Edward was staring at me, his hands still in his hair, his eyes, vibrantly green even in the dim of the hallway, wide, as was his mouth, which had fallen open. He actually looked pretty funny, and I would have laughed if my butt didn't hurt so much, if I wasn't on the ground in front of him in just a towel, and if he weren't so goddamn _pretty_. It should be a crime to look as good as he did, even with that disoriented look on his face and his jaw unhinged the way it was.

Wait, back up. I was on the ground, sprawled out in front of him, in just a _towel, _and he wasn't doing much except for staring at me like I was some sort of strange mold he found on his sandwich.

_Well, damn._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Well, damn.

So. What do you think?

Edward's point of view next chapter? Bella's?

Drop me a note, lovelies. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this so far. Constructive criticism is welcome as well. :)

Until next time! xxx

**~NC**


End file.
